


Not Gonna Forget This

by ShonenAiSorcerer



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Happy Ending, M/M, a little drunk!jolras, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 06:51:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShonenAiSorcerer/pseuds/ShonenAiSorcerer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire is going to fix Enjolras's sad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Gonna Forget This

“What’s wrong with you?” Grantaire asked as he sat himself, uninvited, at the small table with Enjolras.

“Nothing,” the man said, not looking up from his book.

“You haven’t said two words to anyone all evening, and while I’m sure that,” he leaned over to glance at the book’s cover, “ _Major Economic Developments in Modern France_ is just thrilling, you could at least spare us a moment, yeah?”

“Okay,” Enjolras conceded. He set the book down and turned his attention to Grantaire, managing to convey sarcasm with a look alone.

Grantaire ignored it. He was good at that.

“Better,” he decided. “Now, what’s with you tonight?”

“There’s nothing—”

“You haven’t yelled at me all night.”

“I don’t always yell at you.”

“No, but when I talk about the government you do.”

“Were you—”

“Yes, at length. I think it’s just fantastic what they’re doing with our money, yes?”

Grantaire was goading him, but now it was Enjolras’s turn to ignore it. He sighed, just a bit, and went back to his book.

“No,” Grantaire decided as he took it gently from his hands. “No, Apollo. Talk to me. What’s up? Test not go well? Professor Sorrel kick you out of class again? Someone on the street call you a Republican?”

“Stop.”

“Just tell me.”

“Why?”

“Cause I’m your friend, and you’re sad. And since I can’t get you wasted, I thought we’d talk about it.”

“I’m not…sad.”

“Try again. I haven’t seen you this out of it since Bossuet misspelled the t-shirts.”

He laughed, but Enjolras did not.

“I’m serious,” Grantaire added.

“I’m not sad.”

“Just tell me why. It’ll be good for you.”

“It will not.”

“Then you do admit there’s something wrong.”

“Grantaire…”

“Come on. I’ll keep it a secret if you want. I can do that.”

“It’s not a secret.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s ridiculous. Forget it.”

“Apollo,” he groaned. “I don’t care if it’s your cat’s imaginary eyes problem—”

“Justie does have an eye problem. That’s why I have to give her—”

“Oh my god, no, do not justify your abuse of that poor animal.”

“It is not abuse. It’s medication.”

“And this is not going to distract me.”

“Okay, R,” Enjolras sighed, not looking at him, “It’s just today’s my birthday and it kind of sucked, and that’s it. I told you it was ridiculous.”

“Today’s your birthday.”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

“And we’re not doing anything?”

“No.”

“What about Combeferre? Did he do anything?”

“He’s been busy.”

“Busy banging Eponine,” Grantaire added, making Enjolras wince.

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Did he at least get you a present or call or something?”

“It doesn’t—”

“No, huh. Did anybody remember?”

“My mom. Her secretary sent me a card. Very nice.”

“That’s it?”

Enjolras nodded. He reached for his book only to have Grantaire snatch it away. He turned to glare only to find the other looking at him rather intensely.

“What?”

“I’m so sorry.”

“What?”

“I should have remembered.”

“R,” he smiled gently, “It’s not your job to remember that stuff. It’s not anybody’s job. It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.”

“There are lots more important things.”

“Not today. Come on,” Grantaire decided and stood up. “Get up, we’re going out.”

“What?”

“We’re going out. I’m going to buy you dinner and embarrass you by having the cute waiters sing at you.”

“You don’t—”

“Up. Let’s go so tomorrow when people remember (and they’re gonna feel terrible, by the way) and ask you what you did, you won’t have to say you sulked and read about France. You can tell them R drug you out and had people sing at you.”

“Grantaire—”

“And got you hopelessly drunk on tequila?” he asked hopefully.

“I don’t think so,” Enjolras said, but he was smiling a little now and standing up to get his jacket.

* * *

 

“I think you’re drunk,” Grantaire decided, trying not to drop Enjolras as he unlocked the apartment door.

“And I think you’re better looking than the waiter,” the blonde decided.

Grantaire laughed as they finally made it inside and collapsed in a pile on the couch.

“That’s it. I can’t go any farther,” Grantaire said. “You can sleep with me here or go it on your own.”

“Not moving,” Enjolras decided, shoving at Grantaire until he was pretty much laying on top of the cynic.

“And I’m not arguing.”

“Good.”

They were silent for a few minutes, long enough for Grantaire to think his friend had passed out. Then Enjolras spoke again.

“R?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

He laughed softly, “Yeah.”

“Do you…do you think I…can I …can I just ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“I just want, and you can say no, I mean, I think you’re gonna say no,” he said, rubbing his cheek just a little against Grantaire’s chest, “I just want to _ask_.”

“Okay.”

“Will you go out with me…on a date? I just…I like you and I want to, but you can say no.”

“Yes.”

“Yes no or yes yes?”

“Yes yes.”

“Oh. Good.”

Another minute of silence.

“R?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you tell me that again in the morning, so I can remember it?”

“Yeah.”

* * *

“Hey beautiful,” Grantaire smiled.

Enjolras glared at him for a fraction of a second before resuming his activity, namely, gripping the toilet as he threw up.

“You’re gorgeous in the morning.”

“Hate you,” Enjolras decided a moment later as he reached up to pull the silver handle and staggered to his feet. Shoving Grantaire out of the way, he got out his toothbrush.

“Nope. You like me.”

Another glare, this time with a toothbrush in his mouth.

“You do! And I happen to have something important to tell you.”

“What?” he mumbled around the toothbrush.

“You’ve got a date tonight. With me.”

Enjolras froze, then slowly removed the toothbrush from his mouth.

“That really happened?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“And you said yes?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Huh.”

“So you gonna pick me up, or what?”

“Yeah,” Enjolras said, rinsing his mouth and putting away the toothbrush, “I’ll pick you up.”

He seemed rather dazed by the whole thing.

“You don’t have to,” Grantaire said; he smiled, but he looked devastated.

“No, Grantaire,” Enjolras started, stopped, then just stared at him for a moment. He sighed. “I finally got up the courage to ask you. I just wish I hadn’t been so sloppy about it.”

“You can always try again.”

“Will you go out with me? On a date?”

“Definitely, Apollo.”

“Good,” he nodded decisively, “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“That would have been a lot smoother if you didn’t still have toothpaste on your chin.”

“Shut up, R.”

 


End file.
